I'm Very Militant, You Know, In A

If It’s Going To Be A World With No Time For Sentiment, It’s Not A World That I Want To Live In.

What It Sees There Isn't So Much A Face As The Expression Of A Predicament.

As They Embrace, She Kisses Him Full On The Mouth. And Suddenly Sticks Her Tongue Right In. She Has Done This Before, Often. It’s One Of Those Drunken Long Shots Which Just Might, At Least Theoretically, Once In Ten Thousand Tries, Throw A Relationship Right Out Of Its Orbit And Send It Whizzing Off On Another. Do Women Ever Stop Trying? No. But, Because They Never Stop, They Learn To Be Good Losers.

I'm Very Militant, You Know, In A Quite Way.

The Landscape, Like Los Angeles Itself, Is Transitional. Impermanence Haunts The City, With Its Mushroom Industries--the Aircraft Perpetually Becoming Obsolete, The Oil Which Must One Day Be Exhausted, The Movies Which Fill America's Theatres For Six Months And Are Forgotten. Many Of Its Houses--especially The Grander Ones--have A Curiously Disturbing Atmosphere, A Kind Of Psychological Dankness Which Smells Of Anxiety, Overdrafts, Uneasy Lust, Whisky, Divorce And Lies.